portfolio pieces

Okay, so, here are the somewhat finished pieces for my portfolio, most of them need a little tweaking here and there (changing font colors so you can read them better, re-aranging the way the words are placed on the page, blah blah blah, all that fun technical stuff) I'm sorry these versions are so small, this was the easiest way for me to get them online at this point. If you click on the pictures you can see a bigger version of them.

They talked to each other in a

Language they called English, but I

didn’t understand. When

I asked what the man said he told me

“Don’t be so great about it.”

and I knew what that meant then,

but now, I’m not so sure .

PHOTO: Allison Lau

You’re breathing steadily as I slide a shirt over my head. My feet are bare and the wood is cold, telling me winter is coming

Photo: Allison Lau

(i'm not sure why this is underlined/appearing as a link)

Here is where I rolled a cigarette and climbed on top of the car. The red roof was scratched and dented. It was fall and we were inevitable. Your hands seemed big enough to hold all of me, to hold my voice and the way it shook like the windows at night when I can’t sleep. Here, now, I cannot sleep and you are holding me the way one would hold the ocean. Smoke is escaping through my fingertips the way I eventually will slip through yours

PHOTO: Kate Sprout.




In the morning the sun rises and the sky is thousands of colors she has never seen before. She is amorous for the sun, but then it is noon and the sun has fully risen, the sky is blue above her, and she is awake.

PHOTO: ARIANA LEWIS





I could hear the grains scraping against the inside of her skin. She inhaled, resting her head against the wall. The church bells rang.

PHOTO: Ariana Lewis

Her blonde ringlets tapped her jaw as she spoke. Her voice, like honey, coated the walls of the bathroom, spilled beneath the crack in the floor, and crawled through the pews, through the pages of the bibles.

PHOTO : Kate sprout

(again, not sure why this is underlined like a link.

From her golden home she watches each breath and the words trailing out after them. She sees the lovers on the lawn, the shop keeper, and the vandals with their paint. She is quiet.

PHOTO : Dallim Cha